Of Ice and Snow
by slayer of destiny
Summary: SPOILERS SEASON 8. After the Battle of Winterfell there is only one person that Jon wants to see, a certain redheaded wildling. He and Tormund find their way into each other's arms after a misunderstanding and a couple of revelations.


**A.N SPOILERS FOR SEASON 8**

This fic contains a fair bit of swearing as matching with any story that has Tormund in it!

It will also have a sequel!

Hope you enjoy

* * *

Jon's heart sunk as he watched Dany step back, all hope that he had had in the friendship that they had built together, the things that they had gone through, the hopes that that friendship would survive this.

"You're the rightful heir to the Iron Throne," Dany's eyes narrowed on him.

"I don't want it! I don't want to be a King!" Jon protested.

"No? You don't want to have that power? You don't want every person that called you bastard to know that you are actually the lawful Prince?" Dany's frowned.

"I...The only person that I wished I could have told that is dead and buried over there," Jon pointed to the grave of Catelyn Stark. "Everyone else…" Jon shrugged.

"What do you want then?" Dany asked suspiciously.

"What?" Jon blinked at her confused. However, he had seen this conversation going, it was not this way.

"What is it you want, you say that you don't want the throne, ok, so we survive this, we take back King's Landing. What then?" Dany tilted his blonde head questioningly.

"I...Tormund!" Jon found himself blurting out.

"Sorry?" Dany asked bemused, but the fact that she took a step closer to him again gave him hope. "The redheaded wildling giant?"

"Yes," Jon nodded.

"What about him?" Dany asked confused.

"I…" Jon was embarrassed to realise that his cheeks were turning bright red, and his ears were burning as well.

"Oh...Oh!" Dany flushed a little herself in the light of the crypts candles.

"Yes," Jon sighed sitting down on one of the nearby benches.

"You...you love him?" Dany asked cautiously taking a seat next to him. The hostility seemed to be gone in place of curiosity.

"Yes, I do,"

"Does he know?" She asked softly.

"No. The Free Folk don't have the same cautions about men lying with men, but...well he could have anyone that he wants, compared to them I am just a soft southerner. I'm not sure what he would see in me," Jon sighed.

"How long have you been in love with him?" She asked gently.

"A couple of years now, I pretty much started falling for him not long after I met him,"

"And you haven't told him?"

"No, I...I can charge a hundred men by myself, but telling him and having him reject me...that terrifies me," Jon sighed.

"I know that feeling," Jon turned to see Dany smiling sadly.

"Jorah?" He hazarded a guess.

"That obvious?" She asked.

"Only to someone who was there to see your reunion. You know that he loves you though," Jon frowned a little.

"Despite everything he has been in my life through all the steps of my journey to standing right here. He saw me first when I was nothing more than a bargaining chip for my brother to sell off for an army. He watched me gain my strength, and he was there for every single step I took, ready to support me when I needed it. I am...I am…"

"Scared that you will lose him?" Jon offered softly.

"Yes. He makes me a better person, I am gentler and wiser when he is at my side. I am scared that if I give into my feelings for him and then lose him...I fear that I will go the same way as my father," Dany turned to look at him and in her purple eyes, he could see the pain evident.

"I wouldn't allow that," Jon promised. "I would be there with you, to help you, support you as...as family does," he offered hesitantly.

"Family…" She breathed out the word, leaning her silver-blonde head back against the wall behind them. "I didn't think about that. It has been a long time since I have had family besides my dragons. You would be my nephew,"

"Even though I am older than you," Jon snorted. "I thought my family ties were fucked up just when I was a bastard. Now my dad is my uncle, my aunty is my mum, my siblings are my cousins and my Queen is my Aunty," Jon snorted.

There was a brief pause and suddenly the two of them were laughing almost hysterically, leaning against each other as everything sunk in.

"Can you imagine Ned Stark trying to pass you off as his bastard if you had the blonde hair and purple eyes!?" Dany burst into another round of laughter as the thought occurred to her.

"Oh, gods! I would have loved to have heard what he could have come out with to try and cover that one up," Jon snorted.

A silence fell between them again, only interrupted by the odd snort and giggle as they sat pressed shoulder to shoulder staring at the ceiling of the crypt.

"So, nephew, what would your ideal life be like with your redheaded Wildling?" Dany asked quietly.

"Staying North, maybe here, maybe beyond the Wall, it doesn't really matter. Just setting up a home for the remaining Free Folk and getting to live out my days with him," Jon said with so much longing in his voice that Dany reached out and took his hand.

"Maybe we can…" Whatever she was about to say was cut off at the sound of a horn being blown from above them. Their eyes met, and then as one they were moving, racing for the exit as fear gripped their hearts.

* * *

"The dead are already here!" Dany snapped turning back towards Drogon.

"Dany!" Jon called over the wind.

"What?"

"I am with you. I always will be, if anything happens to me…"

"You're not going to…" Dany frowned but she was interrupted by Jon grabbing her arms and speaking over her.

"If anything happens to me, I want you to know that you are, and always will be my Quen, and I believe in the Queen that you are going to be, and the world you're going to create. I am not the right person to rule, and I never would have been. I want us to be family, not enemies!"

"Jon…" Dany fully turned to him. "Let us make our House proud, together. Fire and Blood, we will beat this evil for the world of men, together," She smiled reaching up to hug him.

Jon let out a sigh of relief, hugging her tightly back. They parted and stepped away from each other, nodding with determined looks to each other.

"Jon!" Dany shouted over the Winter wind before they could climb onto their dragons. "If we all survive this night, I will tell Jorah how I feel for him, if you tell Tormund!" She shouted when she had his attention. His laughter was captured by the wind, but his nod gave her the answer.

"Fire and Blood!" He shouted over the wind.

"Fire and Blood!" Dany nodded, and then they launched into the sky and into what would feel like an endless battle.

Jon only had time to think that he was glad that women and children, that Sansa and even Tyrion were safe in the dungeons.

* * *

Jon stumbled through the wreckage of the place that he had grown up in, stumbling around the piles of dead. People were starting to gather together in small, exhausted groups. He walked passed Brienne, Jamie and Podrick sitting on the roof one of the buildings leaning against the wall looking about 4 seconds away from falling asleep.

Jamie half raised a golden hand to acknowledge him before it dropped back into his lap and his head rested against the wall again.

Familiar faces flashed passed him, stumbling around themselves looking for the people they cared about. He caught a flash of red hair and black clothes, turning to see Sansa and Tyrion standing in the middle of a rapidly growing group of survivors. Sansa was taking control already and seemed to be organising everyone.

Jon met her eyes and the smile of relief she gave him actually managed to pull a smile to his lips, he took a stumbling step and she nodded in understanding, giving him one more smile before she turned and carried on organising everyone.

"Jon?" Davos gripped his shoulder who knew how long later, everywhere looked the same, a mass of stone and bodies.

"Davos!" Jon gripped his shoulders back, letting out a breath of relief at seeing his friend had survived.

"Good to see you made it through!" Davos grinned weakly, stumbling a little.

"You too! Have you seen Sam?" Jon blinked tiredly.

"Yes, the bloody fool actually made it!" Davos laughed slightly hysterically. "He was making his way to find Gilly,"

"Brilliant," Jon nodded. "Have you seen…"

"He was on the walls by the front gates the last time I saw him," Davos answered. Jon blinked at him, his already exhausted brain a little baffled.

"K," He found himself nodding before stumbling his way in the general direction of the front gate.

He moved even faster toward the gate as it hit him that that was where the majority of the wights had come over the wall. Every flash of grey furs had his heart jumping and his breath catching until he realised that he couldn's see red hair, only to go through it again with the next flash of fur.

"Grey Worm!" Jon stumbled but reached the Captain of the Unsullied fairly quickly. Even the normally unshakable looking man had a wide-eyed look about him as he too stumbled toward Jon over stone and bodies.

"Messandei!" The Unsullied croaked.

"The women and children are ok, they're over there, she was helping organise things," Jon pointed in the direction people were stumbling towards.

"Thank you," Grey Worm nodded before stumbling off, clearly the desire to be with the person he loved keeping him moving, something that Jon understood as he turned around and carried on his own awkward stumble.

"Jon!" His head snapped around so fast it hurt, and he found himself stumbling nearly to his knees at the sight of grey furs, red hair and beard, covered in blood, but grinning and still standing and limping toward him with Ghost at his side. "Careful!"

The shouted warning was useless as Jon stumbled even quicker over the debris towards the other man, suddenly managing to find energy he didn't think that he would have for at least three months to hurry his way toward the Free Man.

Tormund reached out for the hug as Jon threw himself at him, but the noise of surprise that came from him when Jon grasped his face and kissed him would have been amusing had the Northern man's heart not been in his throat.

And then Tormund was wrapping his arms around Jon's waist and tugging him closer so they didn't have even an inch of space between them and kissed back with all the fire that his hair had been kissed with.

The kiss tasted of blood, mud, exhaustion and about 100 other things that Jon didn't want to think about, and it couldn't have been more perfect.

"I saw you running at him as he raised the dead, you fucking fool!" Tormund grumbled when Jon yanked his head back to suck in some air.

"I…" Jon started to say but then demanding lips were on his again, and he was being pulled even closer. He lost himself in the kiss once more, wrapping his arms around Tormund's neck and kissing him even deeper, sliding his tongue into Tormund's mouth to taste the other man for the first time.

"If you ever ever do something like that again I will fucking kill you myself," Tormund grumbled before slamming their lips together again before Jon could let out more than a noise of protest.

"Tormund...Tormund...I…" Jon panted as they parted their lips but didn't move an inch away from each other.

"I fucking love you, you mad fuck!" Tormund growled.

Jon blinked and then burst out laughing. "I love you too!" He managed to say before the redhead could get the wrong idea. It was just so perfectly Tormund. He threw himself at the other once more and pressed increasingly desperate kisses to his lips.

At least until there was an incredibly loud huff from beside them. They parted and looked down to see Ghost staring up at them with an annoyed expression on his face. They looked back to each other before they started to laugh.

"Hello boy, you were amazing, you really were," Jon reached down and ruffled Ghost's fur, careful of his ear, it looked as though one of the Wights had chewed it off.

"Jon!" The scream had them turning quickly, not far away outside of the gates they could see the white fur of Dany's coat, her silver-blonde hair gleaming in the rising sun. She was kneeling in the middle of a pile of bodies waving desperately at them, Drogon was curled around her and when he realised she was trying to get their attention he joined in by letting out an ear-splitting roar.

Ghost sniffed the air and whined, heaving himself to his feet and started hobbling over as quickly as he could. Jon was a couple of steps behind, Tormund grumbling and following as well.

"Fuck!" Jon hurried faster as he realised Dany was kneeling beside a far too still Jorah.

"Fuck!" Tormund agreed and the two of them reached Dany and Jorah at the same time, dropping to their knees.

"He has a pulse but it is weak, he was stabbed so many times Jon," Dany sobbed reaching out to take his hand.

"It's ok, he's a stubborn man, he will hold on!" He assured her. But he had to admit when he looked at the other man, it wasn't looking good. He had lost far too much blood already and they were so far from where the Maesters were setting up to help the injured. He, Tormund and Ghost were all too injured and tired to carry the man, and Dany wouldn't have managed to get the far larger man to the gate on a good day, never mind when her small frame was clearly already exhausted.

"Drogon," He croaked.

"What?" Dany asked but Jon was already heaving himself to his feet and grabbing Jorah under the arms, desperately trying to find what was left of his energy.

"We need to get him on Drogon," Jon grunted. Tormund seemed to realise what he was saying and grabbed the Knight's ankles. With a determined expression, Dany grabbed his thighs and bore some of his weight to help them, and the three of them started an awkward shuffle to where Drogon was trying to make himself as flat to the floor as possible, apparently realising what they were aiming for.

"Go!" Tormund shook his head when Jon turned to help him on.

"Tor…"

"I don't want to leave Ghost here alone, I will catch up," Tormund shook his head.

"I…"

"GO!" Tormund roared, and in response, it seemed Drogon took to the air. Jon frowned at the rapidly smaller speck of red on the ground before he concentrated on helping Dany keep Jorah steady for the short trip.

The next thing he was aware of was Grey Worm, Davos and the Hound coming forward to help them, and then he was washed away into the madness of the aftermath.

* * *

Jon had no clue how long it was before he was finally able to stop. He wasn't sure how he had managed to carry on going, but he had.

He had managed to find the energy to hug Arya so tightly that she squeaked when the news reached him as to who had saved them all. He had also managed to track down everyone else from his close group, including Gendry who had been absolutely covered in blood and looked like he was about to pass out, the poor bugger had been making their weapons for weeks before the battle.

Finally, finally, though Sansa shoved him towards the Great Hall where everyone not injured was gathering to sleep. Thank the gods, whichever ones were listening, the death toll wasn't as bad in the light of day as it had looked during the hopeless darkness of the night.

But once again Jon found himself stumbling around looking for red hair and grey furs. Thankfully though he also knew to look out for Ghost, and a giant white direwolf was something easy to spot in the corner amongst the massive crowd, especially as most of them were lying on the floor completely out for the count.

Jon nodded to one of the Stark men as he passed, Andy he thought his name was, he was looking a little beaten and bruised, but alive. The man grinned at him as he made himself comfy, and to Jon's amusement seemed to fall asleep the moment he closed his eyes, loud snores starting straight away.

"Hey," Jon groaned tiredly as he reached where Tormund was sitting propped against the wall in the corner.

"Hey," Tormund nodded back making Jon blinked confusedly at him. He reached out for the other man, only to curl his fingers closed when the redhead pulled away from him slightly, not even looking at him.

"What…" Jon frowned, staggering slightly where he stood.

"Shouldn't have done that earlier," Tormund shrugged.

Tiredness and anger washed through his system and he dug his nails into his palm as he glowered at Tormund, Ghost looked between the two of them with a whine.

"You're a fucking cunt!" Jon snapped, feeling a flash of pleasure at the shock in blue eyes that turned to look at him, before he spun away and slammed out the hall via the handy nearby door, ignoring the grumbles from behind him.

He had no clue where he was going, but he just wanted to be as far away from furs and red hair as possible, heartbreak and pain washing through killing the hope that he had felt when Tormund had kissed him back.

"Don't walk away from me!" Tormund growled, and suddenly the Wildling was storming rapidly up behind him. Jon ignored him and carried on storming through the halls. "Hey! I am not the one who is a cunt!"

"Yes, you are!" Jon spun around quick enough that Tormund nearly ran straight into him. "You're a cunt and a prick and and a and a…"

"Yes?" Tormund snarled.

"Why the fuck did you kiss me back?! Why did you tell me you loved me if you were going to change your mind a few hours later?" Jon snarled.

"I'm not the one who snogged someone and then went back to making moon eyes at the pretty Dragon Queen minutes later!" Tormund shoved at him slightly.

"I..what?" Jon scrunched his nose.

"Holding her hand and comforting her and…" Tormund blinked as a fist slammed into his cheek. Admittedly it was a weak punch considering that Jon had about zero energy and was shaking so hard that he had no power behind it.

"I was wrong. You're a stupid cunt," Jon glared before turning, stumbling slightly and carrying on down the hallway.

"What do you mean by that?" Tormund growled.

"Fuck off,"

"What did you mean?"

"Fuck off!"

"What did you…"

"What I meant by that was that I was comforting her as my Queen and a friend because he was cradling the man she loved who was close to death, who she agreed to tell that she loved him if we survived the battle and I would tell you! Also, she is my aunty!" Jon growled trying to shove at Tormund's chest but found himself hugged close to an already more powerful chest.

"Shhh, Little Crow. Shhh,"

Jon's angry retort was lost into the furs of Tormund's chest.

"I was jealous, very jealous, I have been of her for months now, when I saw you I got stupidly jealous because I knew what you southerners tend to think of men laying together, and she can literally give you the country," Tormund said in a soft voice that Jon had never heard him use before.

Pulling back he stared up into sorrowful blue eyes and felt some of his anger burning away.

"We aren't done discussing this, but I am beyond exhausted, I am aching and sore, and I have wanted nothing more than to curl up with you and sleep for the last 4 hours, or possibly 4 days," Jon sighed. "I also know a small storeroom near here that should be empty,"

"Lead the way," Tormund nodded.

"I'm not in love with her," Jon sighed as he took the Wildling's hand and started leading him down the corridor.

"Ok,"

"No seriously. I love her, as family. I am IN love with you, no one else," Jon said firmly meeting blue eyes.

"I love you too, no one but you Little Crow, have done for a long time now. Will the Bear be ok?" Tormund grunted.

"Its touch and go, the next day will tell us, he had been stabbed a good few times and lost a lot of blood. Dany is with him,"

"He is going to be pissed if he dies and realises she actually loves him, mind when he does I am sure that his cock will lead him right back to his body like a diving rod,"

Jon stared at him for a second before he snorted and started laughing. The man was crude, but he loved his outlook on things, and he realised that the redhead was desperately trying to cheer him up.

He stopped at a door and tried shoving it open but found he didn't have the strength. Tormund wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him away, using his other hand and shoulder to force their way in.

Jon mentally thanked the gods that the room was empty and still standing. The two of them stumbled into the room and Tormund slammed the door shut as soon as Ghost slipped through the gap he left for him having followed them, and then he threw some things in front of the door for good measure as Jon stumbled across the small space while stripping off his unneeded and bloody layers on the way, before dropping heavily onto the bags of grain in the corner.

He groaned as he lay down and lay flat, the grain felt like the best bed he had ever lain on, his aching bones and body aching as he finally laid flat.

"You keep making noises like that Little Crow and my body won't care how tired and beaten up it is," Tormund grunted making his way across the small space between them, shedding his own layers on top of Jon's before dropping down onto the grain bags beside Jon.

"What?" Jon asked, very much aware of his reddened cheeks as the redhead just sat there staring at him.

"So innocent," Tormund grinned that cheeky smile that Jon both loved and hated. "I will enjoy corrupting you,"

"Tormund!" Jon whined as the images jumped into his mind of exactly how the other man could do that.

"Sorry, sorry," Tormund sound anything but. He turned to pull his boots off before he snorted a laugh. Turning his head Jon grinned as he watched Ghost, with the utmost concentration, scraped at their clothes with his front paw to get them into the perfect pile. Only then did he flop down on them with a content huff, his eyes turning challengingly onto the two men in the room.

"You had his ear looked at, thank you," Jon yawned noticing the bandage covering the damaged ear.

"One of the women offered to help with it when she noticed me cleaning it up, though she was terrified he would take her hand off at any moment," Torund grunted getting his second boot off, and turned to yank Jon's off for him.

"Still, thank you," Jon sighed, his eyes closing as everything caught up with him.

"I will always look after the two of you as long as you let me," Tormund huffed.

"That could be quite a while," Jon opened his eyes to see blue eyes sneaking a look at him.

"You won't be going South with your Queen?"

"I'm going to have to," Jon sighed. "She leant her army to us for this fight, I promised my people and my sword to her fight. Plus I want to see the end of the Lannisters as well for everything that they have done. But I won't be staying, once she has the throne I will be straight back here,"

"Oh?" Tormund yanked Jon's second boot off and turned to look challengingly at him. "You might decide you like it down there,"

"Hardly," Jon scrunched his nose. "It is busy, and smelly and...hot,"

Tormund stared at him for a second before he snorted out a laugh. "That would be a good thing to most people,"

"Not to me, I'm not a fan of heat, I prefer the Ice," Jon shrugged. "Besides the people of my family do not do well in the South, it tends to get us killed, even my mother,"

"What did you mean the Dragon Queen is your aunt?" Tormund asked softly. Jon was surprised at how delicate he was being, he was used to Torund just plunging his way through any social situation with all the grace of a dragon landing on a fence. When he turned brown eyes onto the Free Man however he could read the guilt at their argument and the misunderstanding on his face.

"Sam found out in one of his books," Jon said reaching out and snagging Tormund's inner coat, yanking him down next to him and turning with delight into the war, firm body of the other man, it felt better than first lying down had. Arms wrapped around his waist and shoulders, holding him tightly and firmly as though he were something precious.

"Go on," He grunted once they were settled.

"Ned wasn't my dad, he was my uncle, his sister was my mother and…" Jon launched into the story for the second time.

"Fucking hell," Tormund uttered with his usual way with words. "You fucking Southerners and your fucking titles and Kings and…"

"You're not going to ask if I want the throne?" Jon asked, resting his chin on Tormund's chest to see his face.

"I think I know you well enough to know the answer to that already. You looked like you would rather fuck the Night King when they made you King of the North," Tormund snorted at the expression on Jon's face.

"That is just disgusting!" Jon complained shoving at Tormund's larger body.

"Makes my point though," Tormund shrugged making Jon grumble as he was jostled.

"I don't want it," Jon confirmed, his eyes getting heavier and heavier with tiredness that was finally tugging him under now the adrenaline that had been keeping him going was finally fading from his system.

"What do you want Little Crow?" Tormund asked softly, looking down at the head of curly brown hair.

"You, the North, our people," Jon yawned widely, clearly already more asleep than awake. But Tormund would not have been able to stop the smile on his face if he had tried. Our people Jon had said. He knew exactly who he meant by that.

He pulled Jon even closer to the warmth of his own body, getting a content hum and wiggle from the man in his arms. He half expected to wake any moment and realise that he had fallen asleep right before the battle and this was all a dream. If it was he would cling to it for as long as he could.

Five hours later he was woken to find that it wasn't a dream, he and Jon were still in their little hiding spot, Jon was snoring into his chest and clinging onto him, and Ghost was trying to sneak onto the grain sacks along with them.

"Get lost you overgrown dog you! We won't all fit!" Tormund glared at the Wolf who flopped himself down onto their legs as though to prove him wrong. Jon woke with a pained groan as Tormund yelped in pain at the feeling of a boulder being dropped onto his legs. "Damned mutt!"


End file.
